


Aftermath

by Quillpaw



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Gen, Post-Movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quillpaw/pseuds/Quillpaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newton is not in celebratory mood, and for the life of him he cannot figure out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

The celebration of the clock shutting down put New Year's in Times Square to shame. It seemed as if half the Shatterdome had a bottle of wine ferreted away for just this occasion, and for the first time in years food and drink seemed truly plentiful. It made Newton's stomach turn.

He had long since retreated to the sanctity of his research lab, still holding onto a plastic cup filled with wine he had yet to taste. He was too wired to properly celebrate, but he couldn’t say he was really thinking about anything at all. He sat in silence for quite some time before becoming aware that he had company. "They still going?" he asked by way of greeting.

"Like animals," Hermann replied, easing into a chair opposite him. "I've no doubt they'll be at it long after the sun rises." There was a brief moment of silence. "Not one for festivities, then?"

Newton drummed his fingers absently against the sides of his cup. "Nah, not really feeling it." He didn't often need to think about his words, but they weren't coming easily tonight. It bothered him. Finally, he said, "We stopped the apocalypse. Saved humanity. I should be on top of the goddamn world right now, but—"

"You feel defeated. Lost. Disgusted." Newton looked up sharply, his eyes going wide, and Hermann continued. "I feel the exact same way. Curious, isn't it? For us both to have such...out of place emotions." Newton swallowed thickly. "Oh, come now, Newton, I know you've got some semblance of a brain sloshing around in that head of yours. Put it to use."

Newton did think for a moment, and the realization made his stomach perform a maneuver that made him very glad he hadn't put any wine in it. He inhaled shakily through his nose before responding. "...Oh my god. We're still hooked into the Kaiju hive mind." His voice was quiet and flat, trying to sound disbelieving but unable to deny it. His fingers clenched around his cup. "D'you...think it's permanent?"

Hermann cleared his throat at that. He seemed to inflate a bit, putting on the pompous air he always wore before giving his reports. "Well," he began, obviously having given this speech some thought already, "the amount of testing done on the aftereffects of the neural bridging is minimal. And most pilots haven't, ahem, haven't really been alive long enough to observe any aftereffects." He took a moment to breathe. "Bearing in mind that I'm extrapolating from only the barest amount of data, my best estimates—"

"Hermann," Newton interrupted him, uncharacteristically weary. "Just give me a straight answer. Do you think that...this...is permanent?"

Hermann deflated. "I don't know," he answered hollowly. "It's entirely possible. We could be listening to aliens scream in our heads until our last days. There are just too many variables at play to say anything for certain."

Newton looked down into his cup, beginning to drum his fingers again, half to hide how badly his hands were shaking. He laughed, a hollow sound. "That just figures, huh?" Another laugh, harsher than the first; he could hear his own hysteria bubbling up. "To fight monsters...I guess...we _became_ monsters."  
He was surprised when a hand rested on his wrist, steadying him. He hadn't seen Hermann move his chair closer, but the man was now right next to him. "Now don't you turn into a mope on me, Newton Geiszler," he said sternly, and the steadying hand moved up to give him a none-too-gentle smack across the side of his head. "This—this ridiculous self-pitying nonsense is entirely unsuited for you. You've got direct access to the brains of the aliens you've been obsessing over for years! You're a groupie that shagged the drummer! Now bring back that utterly irrational positivity right this instant!"

Newton took a moment just to stare at the other researcher, turning over his words in his mind, before finally speaking again. "...So I guess that makes what we did a threesome, huh?" The shade of red Hermann's face blotched and his affronted sputtering elicited the first genuine laughter out of Newton that night.


End file.
